


The Place You'll Be

by huevoplatano



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Character Study, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubcon Kissing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, M/M, Obsession, Pining, Possessive Behavior, References to Depression, Sibling Incest, Stockholm Syndrome, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huevoplatano/pseuds/huevoplatano
Summary: Hop laments life with Leon after being whisked away to another region by his brother. An alternate ending to my other fic, "Your Biggest Fan".
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Hop
Comments: 22
Kudos: 55





	The Place You'll Be

**Author's Note:**

> this is 100000% vent so it is Not happy whatsoever. to any of you you've read my fic 'Your Biggest Fan', this is a what if scenario in which Leon succeeds in stealing Hop away at the end. If you haven't read that fic first, you might not understand the references in this, so I'm not sure if this is strong enough to stand on its own feet as a oneshot. i don't consider this ending canonical or anything to my other fic, again it's just vent lol
> 
> neither of these fics are very happy. but sometimes you just gotta expel all the weight off your chest, you know? 
> 
> thank you for reading ;-;

Sometimes Hop wondered why he ever bothered to get up in the mornings.

The sun came and went, sometimes in one sitting while he stayed in bed, covers drawn up to his chin, either splayed on his back or curled up on his side, but every time, whether he stayed there all day to witness it or not, the sun rose, and the sun set. That was a fact. He didn’t always gain the luxury of simply staying in bed all day. Hop wasn’t even sure if he could consider those good days or not, the days he was left undisturbed to do what he wanted.

 _Heh_ …what he wanted. Hop almost wanted to scoff at his own pessimistic thoughts. If staying in bed all day long was considered something he wanted, then he really didn’t know why he even bothered to wake up at all. He often contemplated sleeping all day, maybe complaining of sickness, or something to that effect, just to have the excuse to stay right where he was so he wouldn’t have to climb out from under the covers. Where he wouldn’t have to stand from bed and face the nearby window to see the sun rising, casting an annoying glow around the bedroom. Where he wouldn’t have to force himself to trudge down the hallway to the bathroom, avoiding eye contact with his own reflection in the mirror.

It was strange, but Hop couldn’t remember what he used to look like.

Had he always had bags under his eyes? Had his skin always appeared so sunken and pale—almost a grey tone nowadays now that he was thinking about it. It was difficult to say whether or not he had always looked this way, because Hop had always been scrawny, it was true, and while he was well fed, almost to a fault, he never seemed to gain any weight. He definitely didn’t exercise, that was for damn sure, but his body was suffering from lack of… _anything_ really.

His limbs were gangly, making him sick to his own stomach anytime he had to strip and shower, only to see how disgusting his own body was. His hair was starting to grow longer tufts in random places—ones he refused to cut, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. His hair wasn’t long enough to style, not long enough to tie back if he needed it out of his face, but it grew different lengths in different places, and the times Hop stole a glance at himself in the mirror, he could see how unruly it was becoming, only serving to give him an even mangier appearance.

_‘Hop, just let me trim it for you. It will look so much better if you let me cut it here and there.’_

_No_.

_‘You’re always so beautiful, Hop. You could pull off any hairstyle and still be beautiful.’_

He refused.

_‘Just let me fix it for you.’_

Hop’s chest tightened, even as he lay there under the covers, even as he curled into a ball and rolled over to face away from the sun’s rays streaming in through the parted curtains. Though, the sight on the other side of the bed wasn’t much better, Hop supposed it was at least sufferable enough than being blinded so early in the morning.

His brother lay next to him on his side, the covers drawn only to his waist, giving Hop a perfect view of his bare chest. He breathed steady and heavy, jaw slacked, small snores making their way out every so often, and the sight of Leon sleeping never ceased to amaze him sometimes. For his brother to appear so vulnerable, so serene without a care in the world—

When Hop knew what he was really capable of. When Hop had been on the receiving end of his temper more than once, when Hop had—

He sighed, his chest still tight.

Every morning.

Every.

 _Fucking_.

Morning.

It always seemed like he woke up before either of them, every time without fail. It made no sense considering half the time, Hop couldn’t seem to fall asleep and stayed up all night staring at the wall, maybe focusing on streams of moonlight that seeped in, the sounds of Leon’s snoring and heavy breathing somewhat lulling, but never lulling enough for Hop to ever fall asleep to. So—he always woke up. That meant he had to fall asleep at some point.

Hop couldn’t remember anymore. He never remembered falling asleep, not that _anyone_ did, but usually he could at least say he had slept a little because he remembered dreaming, but he didn’t recall those anymore either.

Maybe that was a good thing, because the only types of dreams Hop remembered having ever since coming here were nightmares. Nightmares about Mum. Nightmares about Gloria.

Nightmares about Leon.

Those were always the worst, because anytime Hop woke up, jerked back to reality like a jolt of electricity had gone through him, he shot up in bed, covered in cold sweat, heart pounding, wondering whether he was really here or not. And it took him way too long to realize— _he was_. Hop was here. Hop was in bed with Leon, who now slept through the times Hop jumped up in bed, but he was here with him, and it took Hop every ounce of willpower not to break down crying.

He cried a lot, but that was nothing new. Most of the time he had to hide it, resist with every ounce of his body not to break down, especially in front of Leon. Then Leon would leave. Either for groceries or what have you, and Hop would be left alone for hours at a time, not that that wasn’t something he wasn’t used to either.

Life back at the apartment had seemed different, almost like a dream in itself, like it never happened. Leon never locked him in the apartment, he never installed a deadbolt on the door to keep Hop from running away, claiming Hop was _never_ going to leave—Hop had never spent hours upon hours by himself the times Leon had to go to work, leaving him caged in a single room all day long where he had only a television and a game system to keep him company.

Leon never suggested they move away for good. Hop never broke a glass over his head, because he panicked. Hop never ran for his life, scared out of his mind at the idea of being stuck with Leon for good with no way out, and he never jumped off the balcony, landing himself in the hospital because of it.

This all felt so surreal now.

How could Hop have risked killing himself by jumping in a desperate attempt to get away from his brother only to—

His throat tightened as he lay there in bed, gaze not really focused on his brother, but the moment Leon mumbled in his sleep, he instinctually froze, as if afraid he would wake up, snap at him for something Hop had done wrong, hold him down on the bed because he actually hadn’t gotten his full from last night yet, and fuck him. But Leon’s mouth only twitched, still slacked, and he relaxed once again, the small snores not far behind and Hop could feel his stomach trying its best to untangle the web of nerves that had bundled down into it.

Life was a never-ending fucking game. What kind of mood was Leon going to be in today? What would he ask of him this time? How far would Hop have to humiliate himself in order to placate his fucking— _fucking_ perverted older brother?

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, but Hop blinked them away. Because how could his determination be shot down so easily like it had? He had been so ready to get out of that apartment that he risked killing himself by leaping off the balcony. Anything to get away from Leon. _Anything_.

And in one fell swoop, it was taken from him. Hop never had a plan to begin with. He never thought he could ever make that jump, that he would miraculously stand to his feet and walk away from that ordeal unscathed where he would run from Leon for good, maybe hitch a ride back to Postwick where Gloria and Mum would greet him with open arms—

He sighed to himself. Such wishful thinking. It was all so stupid. This whole thing was so _fucking stupid._ One minute he was risking his own life trying to get away from Leon, because the thought of spending the rest of his life alone with him was a fate worse than death. Hop didn’t want to be with Leon like this. He never wanted Leon seeing the most intimate parts of him like he had. He never wanted to have sex with him in the first place, but Leon always got what he wanted.

Though, Hop never imagined Leon would actually go through with it. Actually whisk the both of them away like this to a faraway region where he had even managed to set them both up in a house no less. No expense was spared when it came to Leon and his frivolities. Hop was almost impressed he could afford to waste so much money, but Leon always insisted it was _all for him._ All for Hop.

The lengths he had gone through just to pull this off—Hop had figured long ago that he really was insane, but maybe he was just as insane for allowing his brother to cart him off like this. After all, Hop didn’t protest. Hop didn’t put up a fight. He barely said a word the whole time they packed their bags, Leon emptying out the apartment back in Wyndon as much as he could.

Sometimes Hop wondered how different life could have been had someone stopped them. Had someone noticed something was amiss, realized how strange the ex-champion was behaving, and that something sinister was going on. But Hop was to blame for that too, right?

He couldn’t do anything right.

It took way too long for the fact to sink in that Hop was never going to see Galar ever again. His childhood home he grew up in, that same house he spent so many nights with Leon, sneaking sweets out of the kitchen with him, watching scary movies while they built a makeshift tent in the living room, while Leon even talked Mum into letting them camp out in the backyard as kids so they could have the ‘authentic’ experience, Gloria often coming to the house once Leon left on his gym challenge, leaving Hop with nobody to hang out with until she moved in, where he considered her his best friend, his rival, his—

Hop swallowed, his chest aching at the thought of her. It seemed even after all this time, after all he’d been through, he still had feelings for her. He still liked her, even if she rejected him, Hop thought about her a lot while he was here, never wanting to forget her face, her smile, the way she would tuck her hair behind her ear, somehow a small, miniscule little tic of hers that made him smile.

And it was all gone.

All of it.

Every piece of himself he had held near and dear to himself was left behind in favor of…this. Whatever this was. Whatever waking up in the house with Leon every morning was called. It was insulting to even call it a nightmare, because nightmares were often filled with dread, or fear. Hop could remember those feelings well, because he used to have them so often once they first moved here. But not anymore. Not lately.

How long had it been again? Oh right.

Hop often lost track of the time, as time became more or less a meaningless abstract concept to him once they moved here, but sometimes he found himself freezing and seizing up at the fact—he had been living here with Leon for almost three years.

Three years.

Three years alone with Leon. Three years of waking up next to Leon, of falling asleep next to Leon, of being placed down onto the mattress where Leon ‘made love’ to him whenever he felt like it. Three years of Hop avoiding looking at himself in the mirror, because his body was so disgusting and foreign to him, his eyes were always so tired-looking, his limbs were longer, lankier, he had gotten even skinnier, despite Leon insisting he cook the best food for him, but Hop couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t gaining any weight. It wasn’t that he was bone-thin, or emaciated, but it was like his body was caving into itself from the absurdity of all this. Like his body was rejecting the will to function properly.

He was so ugly. So disgusting. But Leon always gushed about how beautiful he was—though Hop didn’t see it in the slightest. Leon would hold him close, wrap his arms around him, rest his head on his shoulder and tell Hop it didn’t matter what he looked like, because Hop was _always_ going to be beautiful, no matter how his body changed.

Hop couldn’t remember when he got taller, but suddenly he wasn’t looking up at Leon so much anymore. Leon no longer towered over him like he did, but his brother’s body definitely retained his toned physique, and each time they were naked in front of one another, Hop was often entranced by the stark difference in their body types. Hop had gotten taller, but gangly, while Leon never changed, almost like he was forever trapped in the same body, though it could have simply been because Hop saw him every day and wouldn’t notice a change unless it was dramatic enough.

His brother still insisted he work out every day, to keep himself toned, as that was something important to him, but Hop never questioned why. Sometimes he wondered if Leon was merely bored with life here and wanted something to do to keep his mind occupied.

If Leon ever grew bored with him, then—Hop had to scoff to himself. Would it really even matter? He asked himself that same question every fucking morning he woke up next to him. Would it matter? Would it ever _matter_ if Leon tossed him away, decided this entire ordeal wasn’t worth it anymore, and simply threw Hop to the curb?

He used to wish it would happen, he wished it so much sometimes that he found himself on his knees, begging, praying, praying to whatever god was willing to listen to him, to please, please let Leon get bored of him and let him go. Let Leon realize this entire thing wasn’t worth it, abandon him, throw him out even, Hop didn’t care, Hop didn’t care even if Leon admitted to him this entire thing was something he had to get out of his system, that he was never in love with Hop to begin with. Even if he never wanted anything to do with him ever again, Hop didn’t care.

Hop wished it so bad even in those moments he was tucked under the covers, curled into a ball, trying to fall asleep only for Leon to climb into bed next to him, place a hand on his thigh where he rubbed it up to Hop’s hip, his fingers trying to tease the blanket off him, and Hop had to relent. Sometimes he crawled out from under the covers himself, just to get it over with and give himself to Leon completely, because it was always less painful to fight back now. Hop knew all too well how far Leon would go if Hop dared fight back. Hop knew better than to deny him what he wanted.

The sad thing was—Leon never _physically_ hurt him. At least if he took a swing at him or something, Hop could say Leon was actively abusing him. Never once did Hop ever remember Leon striking him or forcing him to do something sexual to him in return. Leon never forced him to suck him off if Hop didn’t want to. He got huffy if Hop resisted enough times, sometimes that irritation building until the two of them were yelling and arguing, but things hadn’t escalated like that since Hop had been in the apartment with him. That day he threatened to run away was the day Leon hoisted him over his shoulder, carrying him back to his bedroom where he forced himself on him, when he locked Hop in his bedroom for good, fastening a deadbolt and chain so that there was no chance for escape.

Hop didn’t really resist much nowadays. Maybe that made him an awful person, and honestly, he could admit that he was just as much to blame for all this as Leon. He never called for help. He never reached out to anyone to save him, so this was just as much his fault as Leon’s for moving them all the way here to a house in the middle of fucking nowhere. What the fuck did he think was going to happen? That someone would magically know what where he was and save him? That Mum realized Leon was to blame after all this time, and welcomed Hop back with open arms after flying here, knowing exactly where their house was, plucking Hop out of this life for good?

That even Gloria would take back her rejection and admit she had feelings for Hop too?

It didn’t really matter if all of that happened, if life back in Galar suddenly went back to normal, because nothing would change. Hop would still have to live with the fact he had sex with his older brother. He would still have to wake up every morning, reliving the memories of how Leon fucked him in the tent, how Leon locked him up in his apartment where Hop spent months in isolation, with Leon as his only company.

It really was stupid. This entire situation. Who let themselves fall so deep like Hop had? Who seriously let themselves get to the point they let their brother carry them onto a plane and fly off to another region? Even if Hop wanted to run away, he didn’t know anybody here. Nobody cared about him, nobody would believe him if he said the man he was living with was his older brother and he had been sexually assaulting him for years.

Was it even assault at this point? Hop didn’t know anymore. He was the one letting this happen, so calling it that felt…off. Like Hop was tarnishing that word by daring to think he had the right to call his situation other than what it was. This was all his fault. Other people…if this were anyone else, it would be something awful, something worthy of calling the police for, but with Hop—

He burned that bridge a long time ago. It was a lie to say Leon kidnapped him. He hadn’t kidnapped him, Hop came here without a fight, so it wasn’t kidnapping. Leon didn’t assault him, he never put his hands on him. At least, he never struck Hop, or beat him. That’s what assault was, right? Hop wasn’t sure. He could do mind gymnastics all day long and never come to a proper conclusion, but he knew one thing, and the fact he was allowing all this to happen had to mean something. It had to mean Leon wasn’t as guilty like he used to think.

Maybe Hop even wanted it. Maybe Hop had _always_ wanted it. Maybe this was his biggest fantasy, to have Leon cart him off out of the Galar region as a whole, to buy a house for them in the middle of nowhere, where Hop feared no judgement, where Hop could be just as fucking depraved as he wanted to be, where the two of them could be alone in a foreign place where nobody knew who they were, where nobody even knew they were brothers, where Hop could lie there and let Leon fuck him as many times as he wanted, because he obviously wanted this from the start if he had let things devolve to this level. Why didn’t he run away if he hated this so much? Didn’t that make him guilty too?

Leon’s words echoed in his head from a long, long time ago. When Hop was still only fourteen, that day that Leon forced—no, no, he never _forced_ himself on him—that’s right—Hop _wanted_ this— _when Leon only spoke the truth to him_ , because Hop was too stubborn to listen to him back then.

He could remember that moment plain as day, as though it were an occurrence from last week and not over three years ago.

_“I never—Lee, I-I never **wanted** this.”_

_“Of course you did, baby brother. You wanted me from the beginning, and you know it. Stop lying to me.”_

It had taken him too long to finally realize—Leon was right. He’d been right from the very beginning, and it took Hop over three _fucking years_ too long to realize how stupid he’d been to ever doubt his brother when he said things to him like that. Even now, even as Hop sat curled under the blanket, his gaze fixed to Leon’s sleeping face next to him, fixed, but not focused on any particular detail other than his heavy breathing, Hop himself sucked in a breath while he allowed his stare to linger.

Leon had been right from the very beginning. All this time, all the fighting Hop had done, all the heartache he’d put himself through trying to deny that what Leon said to him was anything other than the unabashed truth, he really was stupid if he couldn’t realize his brother never lied to him. He told him Gloria would reject him, and she did. He told him Mum wouldn’t understand and probably get angry at him, and she did. She beat the shit out of him when she walked in to see Leon sucking him off, and she went straight for Hop, because he had instigated this entire thing, after all. It was all his fault, and she knew it.

All those years he spent being an overzealous fanboy, collecting Leon’s merchandise, recording his matches, bragging to everybody and anybody about who his brother was, even having Mum tell him his obsession was getting out of hand, getting creepy—Hop should have seen the warning signs from the beginning.

Maybe he had been in love with Leon that entire time, and only lied to himself, making the excuse he was just a supportive little brother, that all he wanted to do was be just like Leon, because he looked up to him so much. Hop could never admit his true feelings, because it was taboo. It was disgusting, and he knew it. Everybody around him knew how disgusting it was if Hop were to ever admit he had fantasies about Leon that entire time.

But Leon was the only one who understood. Leon was the only one who reciprocated his feelings through and through. Leon never lied to him. Leon would take care of him, because Leon loved him.

Hop’s chest tightened, and so did his throat. It got so bad that he had to lean up in bed because he couldn’t breathe anymore, because he felt suffocated underneath the weight of his own bullshit like this. Why did he have to spend so long lying to himself? Why did he have to make things so difficult when all Leon had ever done was love him like the amazing big brother he was? Why did Hop have to—

The tears began to fall, and Hop was out of the bed, trying his best not to rouse Leon from sleep. The sun was barely peeking through the curtains, only a few streams here and there on the walls, and the room was still darkened by the early morning, but Hop found his way to the bathroom down the upstairs hallway with ease. Once the door was opened, he closed and locked it behind himself, and made the awful, awful mistake of looking up at the mirror that was so large, it extended from the sink to the ceiling. He got a good look at himself then, and it only made the tears fall harder, causing Hop to reach up and cover his mouth so that the sounds of his quieted sobs didn’t escape. Leon would chastise him for crying, but he couldn’t help it.

He could tell his brother’s patience for his outbursts like this was wearing thin, as the once gentle back rubs and soothing tones were now curt and laced with annoyance. Maybe it was only because Leon wanted to see him happy, and was frustrated that even after three years, Hop was still crying. Hop couldn’t seem to come to terms with the fact he was much better off with Leon like this. All Leon had ever done was love him, had showered him with gifts and tokens of affection, had done everything in his power to prove to Hop that his love was genuine, and Hop squandered it. He still cried. He still longed to go home, to talk with his mother, to beg Gloria not to abandon him, even if she rejected him.

His reflection wasn’t even him. This wasn’t what Hop looked like. Hop was a scrawny little fourteen year old boy who looked younger than his actual age, who got excited for Pokemon battles, and who even had an obnoxious streak of running from place to place, bragging about his skills, bragging about how his brother was the champion. Hop was still just a trainer trying to figure out what he wanted out of life. He still had so much to look forward to in life.

He wasn’t—

Hop wiped his face, the tears fogging his vision until he couldn’t see himself anymore, thankfully, but he smeared them away, nonetheless.

He wasn’t eighteen. He wasn’t almost as tall as Leon, just shy of an inch or so. He wasn’t skinny and frail. He wasn’t sickly looking all the time, with his hair messy and unkempt, because he didn’t want Leon cutting it to resemble the hairstyle he’d worn as a kid. It was short, but he never did anything with it. What was the point?

Hop just looked tired.

Always so fucking tired.

Sometimes he thought he would go insane waking up in this house every single morning to the same exact sight of Leon sleeping right next to him (Hop didn’t have his own room anymore, now it was _their_ room), but that wore off rather quickly. Quicker than Hop ever expected it to. Maybe it was the shock of the move itself, to be placed in a strange region where everyone spoke with different accents than them, to think of this place as their house, to be living in the middle of nowhere when Hop was used to a quaint countryside with friendly neighbors and helpful people.

It was alien. But it had been home to him over the course of the past few years. And Leon even took him outside sometimes. Hop had been sixteen the first time Leon took him to the city, holding his hand in public even, smiling at him and assuring him that Hop was safe, because nobody knew who they were, and that Hop could relax. The people in this region weren’t cold or unwelcoming by any means, but Hop never felt comfortable talking to people, out of some paranoid fear that they would somehow realize what had transpired between him and his brother, even during the rare times Leon would allow him out of the house to go on a trip with him.

Hop could at least be grateful his brother let him go anywhere with him considering his track record. When he was so used to being locked up all the time, being let out as long as Leon insisted they hold hands, was a blessing. Hop found he stopped caring when Leon wanted to hold his hand in front of others, even if he wanted to kiss his cheek, or whisper how much he loved him in his ear, Hop wasn’t as embarrassed by it so much anymore. There were a lot of things Leon did now that Hop simply allowed to happen, when years prior he would have been kicking and screaming, throwing Leon off him, shouting at him to never touch him again.

But Hop knew better now. He knew better than to think fighting or resisting would do any good.

None of it mattered anymore.

Nothing fucking mattered.

Sometimes he cried about it. Sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he wished he could go back home to Mum and Gloria. Sometimes he just wanted to stay here for the rest of his life with Leon.

Even when Leon pulled his clothes off and placed him on the bed, Hop lying naked below him while he insisted they go slow and make love all night, Hop didn’t care. He let it happen. Whatever Leon wanted to do to him, he just fucking let it happen. There was no use thinking things would be different now, especially when it had been going on for so long.

What the fuck did Hop think he was going to do with his life? He had wanted to be a professor, but that was all but ripped away from him. He used to think he wanted to be the champion and take Leon’s title away from him, but Gloria won that honor.

Hop didn’t know what he wanted to do anymore. There was nothing to do with his life except exist. Exist with Leon.

The sun rose everyday and the sun set everyday. Hop woke up every morning with Leon next to him, sometimes naked, sometimes not, and every night he climbed in bed with Leon. Sometimes Leon wanted to have sex, and Hop gave himself over to him, but sometimes they simply fell asleep next to one another. It didn’t matter anymore. Hop had lost the will to fight, the hope of anyone ever saving him or finding out where Leon had taken them. He used to daydream of escape, but there was no escape anymore.

Hop was eighteen.

He had been living with Leon in a foreign region for over three years, and he didn’t know what to do anymore. Sometimes he cried. Sometimes he didn’t. But it wasn’t like it mattered, right? Hop had no reason to cry, he knew that, but it happened anyway.

It must have been ages he spent holed up in the bathroom trying to dry himself up, quell that horrible nausea that settled down into his stomach, and will away the tightening of his own chest. Splashing cold water on his face did nothing for the bags under his eyes, and he wondered if Leon would let him get away with sleeping the rest of the day, but the whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and it was obvious he’d been crying. Hop didn’t want to have to deal with another lecture from Leon about this, but no matter what he did, the tears just wouldn’t fucking _stop_. Why the fuck was he acting like this? It was so stupid.

He was rotting away. Hop’s life had no meaning anymore, and he knew it, he fucking _knew_ it. He was going to die in this place with Leon, but he already wanted to die. Hop often wished he wouldn’t wake up the next day, that he would pass in his sleep or something, but that wasn’t going to happen. He might not have looked healthy, but his body was still in tip top shape, and at the first signs of sickness, Leon would rush him off to the doctor for medicine without fail.

Clutching onto the veneer of the sink, Hop dared to look at his reflection once again, and could only sigh in resignation.

What was the fucking point anymore?

Hop wanted to die.

He wanted _to **die**_.

He wanted to die so much sometimes that it felt like he may as well have died the moment they left Galar. Every bit of what made Hop feel whole was left down in Postwick. It was left there when Leon moved him into the apartment with him all those years ago.

His knuckles paled.

Everything ended that night he woke up with Leon on top of him, rubbing his hardening cock against Hop’s, insisting they be quiet so as not to wake Mum, and Hop allowed it. He allowed all of this to happen, even after it escalated like it had, even after he screamed at Leon how much he hated it, when he slapped him across the face, tried kicking him off, and still—Leon only proved to him over and over again how much Hop really enjoyed it.

That’s all Leon had ever done was tell the truth. Even now, even after leaving every single facet of their lives behind in favor of living a life of obscurity in another region, Leon never lied to him.

Hop allowed everything to happen the way it had happened. When the small touches grew into caresses, the kissing that turned passionate, the moment when Leon finally sealed the deal and yanked his pants down around his hips, fucking him on his hands and knees in the tent. Hop allowed it. He _let_ this happen to him. How could he ever begin to think he was worthy of getting out of this situation when he had allowed it to happen in the first place? Hop was to blame for this.

And the least he could do was start believing Leon more. At least start _listening_ to him. Hop was older, a bit more mature, but still young, so even he could see how naïve he’d been before.

 _This_ was his home. And Hop belonged with Leon. They were made for each other, after all.

There was nothing he could do about his bloodshot eyes, so if Leon wanted to chastise him for it, then let him. Hop didn’t care anymore. He didn’t know why he bothered trying to hide the fact he still cried around his brother, but maybe it was because he didn’t want Leon thinking it was his fault when Hop knew damn well it wasn’t. After splashing cold water on his face several times without much success, he finally pat it dry before exiting the bathroom and making his way back to their bedroom. It was still early, way too early to be wandering around the house, and Hop was exhausted. If nothing else, then Leon shouldn’t have a problem with him wanting a couple more hours of sleep.

It’s not like he had much to do anyway.

Upon entering the bedroom, Hop froze for a moment out of instinct when he saw that Leon was awake. Not just awake, but sitting up in bed, his hair having fallen down past his shoulders as he looked like he had just woken up seconds before Hop entered the room, his gaze unfocused, but the moment he and Hop locked eyes, Leon perked up.

“Hop?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and Hop had to grimace at how childlike he appeared doing so. How was it possible for Leon to appear so innocent in moments like these and downright terrifying in others?

It was Hop’s fault for having seen those sides of him, though. More often than not, at least since moving here, Leon didn’t grow quite as aggressive with him like he sometimes would when Hop lived with him in Wyndon. That could have been attributed to Hop’s own stubbornness making the situation more strained than it needed to be, but maybe Leon was itching to get the both of them the hell out of town as soon as possible. Ever since moving here, they didn’t argue as much. Hop wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, as he knew he often used to purposefully push Leon in an attempt to piss him off, because he’d been so angry at him for all that had happened, but now—

Now Hop just felt numb everyday. There was no energy to fight. No will to argue. Whatever Leon asked of him, he did his best to comply.

“What are you doing up so early?” Leon made to move out from under the blankets, and Hop had no idea why his cheeks gushed at the fact Leon was completely naked. They had sex just last night, Hop having showered before coming back to bed, and thus was in a pair of loose-fitting pajamas, but he never understood even after all these years why seeing Leon naked tugged at the urge for him to turn and run in the other direction.

He’d already seen Leon’s cock so many times. He’d already been fucked by him so many times, so why did this matter? It _didn’t_ matter. Hop was just being stupid.

Hop fumbled over his words, not sure what to say. But Leon hadn’t sounded annoyed with him, so that was good at least. “I-I don’t know…” It wasn’t like he ever slept. Sometimes he slept too much, but lately, Hop couldn’t sleep at all. It just happened every once in a while, but there wasn’t much he could do to control it other than try to stay awake all day before crashing later that night.

“Hop?”

That _tone_. Hop grimaced at the way Leon spoke to him, having to look away from him when he grit his teeth, expecting a lecture of some kind. Leon only used that tone with him when he was about to go off about how Hop needed to take better care of himself, or something to that effect, how he couldn’t always be picking him up when Hop refused to even get out of bed most mornings.

But he didn’t expect that tone to shift into something gentle, almost rhythmically soothing. “Hop, are you crying?”

He was—he _had_ been. Simply bringing attention to that fact only made the tears form in his eyes all over again, and Hop didn’t care if Leon snapped at him. He didn’t care if he gave him an earful about his health, because Hop knew he was just dying in this place. He knew he was going to grow old with Leon here, that he was probably going to die here most likely, and Hop knew he was never going to see Mum again. He was never going to see his childhood home, and he knew this was the way things were meant to be.

Why couldn’t the fall from the balcony have killed him?

Hop wished he was dead. All he was doing was wasting his life in this place, because it had been too long already, too long to think rescue was imminent. Three years came and went in the blink of an eye. What was he supposed to do when he woke up to find he was twenty? Twenty-five? What would he do when he was thirty years old? Forty?

Hop began to shake, not able to help himself, because the thought of dying in this place with Leon was—somehow it was—he couldn’t even _fathom_ it. It was just too absurd, too surreal. When were his friends going to realize he was gone? When was Gloria going to come barreling down that door to save him?

Maybe none of them ever cared about him to begin with.

The tears fell, but Hop didn’t wipe them away this time. He didn’t hide away in the bathroom, trying to cover his shame with some makeshift bandaid that would just be ripped off again and again. Hop didn’t deserve any pity. He didn’t deserve to be saved, but he didn’t even know if he _wanted_ to be saved anymore.

Wasn’t that just fucked up? What kind of person _wanted_ this kind of life? What kind of person allowed this to happen to themselves?

Maybe Hop really was a fucking pervert. Maybe Leon had been right all along, and Hop wanted his big brother to fuck him this whole time. Hop had been a closet degenerate from the start, and it took Leon way too long to help him realize that fact himself, because Hop had been so fucking stubborn—he refused to believe it when it was so glaringly obvious.

He was trash.

It was easier to call himself garbage. It was so much easier just to admit that Leon was right, he’d _always_ been right, and that this was where Hop was meant to be. He was meant to be with Leon, loved by him, held by him, fucked by him.

The tears dripped from his chin and Hop finally reached up to wipe them away with his sleeve. When he opened his mouth, his lip was quivering so bad, he could barely get the words to come out. “I-I-I’m s-sorry… L-Lee, I-I’m sorry…” It had been way too long he called him by his nickname.

His body was moving on its own, like Hop was on autopilot, and before he could stop himself, before Leon could say anything, he had crossed the distance between them, lifting his knee to climb onto the bed so that he could reach Leon before he flung his arms around him. For a moment, he could hear Leon’s breath hitch in the back of his throat, like he was stunned Hop was the one flinging his arms around _him_ for a change, as he rarely did so, and his brother remained frozen, but it wasn’t a moment longer that he returned the hug.

Hop could almost match him in height now, and even with them being seated on the bed, he could comfortably rest his chin on Leon’s shoulder as he pulled him close. It didn’t matter if Leon was naked below him and Hop could feel his bare dick against his thigh. _It didn’t fucking matter_. None of it mattered anymore. Hop had lost his shame a long time ago, but maybe that was a good thing.

Instead of chastising him like he thought he would, Leon’s arms rested across his back, pulling him close, and he maneuvered himself from under the blanket enough for Hop to rest comfortably in his lap. Despite being almost as tall as Leon now, Hop was still much, much smaller than him, and he fit into his lap perfectly, like he was made for it—and it wasn’t a lie to say he was made for Leon. He told him that once before and Hop only recently realized how true it was.

They were made for one another. Hop was made for Leon, just as Leon was made for Hop.

His brother shushed him quietly when Hop dug his face into the crook of his neck, trying to quiet his muffled sobs, but once he started crying, there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it. And Hop had no idea why he was even crying in the first place. What set him off? Why was he fine some mornings and not others? He hated it. _He hated this_.

Leon began to rock him back and forth, cradling him, allowing Hop to have his spill while he kept his arms glued around Leon like he might blow away in the wind.

And his voice.

Sometimes Leon’s voice could be so low and comforting, enough to lull Hop to sleep, and when he spoke, Hop could feel some of his anxiety washing away at the sound alone, his chest no longer feeling so tight.

“Shh…don’t cry, Hop. I’m here for you. I’m right here with you, baby.”

It only compelled him to press his face further into Leon’s neck, his sobbing quieting down, but Hop couldn’t do much to stop the tears from flowing. How was it possible for there to be so many tears like this? It always seemed like anytime Leon would comfort him, Hop only cried harder.

But they sat there for a long time, Hop in Leon’s lap, being cradled by him, with his arms wrapped around Leon’s shoulders as he clung to him, crying with his face shoved into his neck, and Leon rocking him back and forth, quietly shushing him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. Leon was always so warm, and Hop felt engulfed by that warmth like there was an invisible blanket rolled around him.

He felt safe.

Loved.

Comforted.

This was his fault to begin with, and he didn’t deserve Leon’s comfort, but Hop knew he needed it now, and he would take it from anywhere he could get it. Even if he had to be selfish. Even if he had to force it from Leon, Hop wanted it. He _needed_ it.

“I’m sorry, Lee.” And it really had been too long he used his nickname. Too damn long. Hop stopped calling him that so long ago but found himself slipping lately more and more. But it’s not like it mattered. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Again, Leon rubbed circles on his back, rocking him back and forth, quietly shushing him as he did so. “If you want to cry, you cry as long as you need to.”

Maybe in some fucked up kind of way, Leon realized how homesick Hop was. In all the time they’d been here, Hop just assumed Leon ignored his feelings on the matter, but that wouldn’t amount to much if Hop had been the one lying the entire time, would it? Even after all that had happened with Mum, with Gloria, even with Raihan whom Hop hadn’t gotten to talk to much—

He missed them.

He missed all of them, even his mother. Even after she kicked them out of their home, even after all the horrible things that went on in that house the week Leon came to visit, when Hop woke up in the middle of the night with his brother straddling him. He fucking missed his room. He missed his bed. He missed the time before Leon ever became champion and they were just brothers who sometimes squabbled, but never went anywhere without one another. He missed hanging out with him, laughing with him, fighting with him in the morning over who got the bathroom first. Hop missed his big brother he looked up to. It felt like that person he pined after died so long ago, but he was right here.

That same person was right here, allowing Hop to sit in his lap as he rocked him like a child, as Hop cried into the crook of his neck, _because he wished he was dead, and he didn’t know what to do anymore._ He wanted to die— ** _he wanted to die_** —Hop didn’t know what to do.

Hop didn’t know anymore if Leon had been the one to change or if it had been Hop himself. Had Leon always harbored these feelings? For a while, it seemed like his older brother wasn’t all that interested in him. Hell, even during his gym challenge, Leon pushed Gloria more for success than Hop, or maybe that had been his imagination.

He just didn’t know anymore.

But whether Leon was the one who changed or Hop, it wasn’t like it mattered now.

The sun rose here every single day just like it rose in Galar, and Hop woke up next to Leon every single day. That’s what he would do until the day he died. This is the way things were meant to be, he knew it. He knew it, even though he rejected it with his entire body, Hop knew where his lot in life was now.

And it was right here with Leon.

He was meant to be held by his brother like this, rocked back and forth while he hummed to him, shushed him, allowing Hop all the time he needed to gain his bearings, and Hop clung to him, wanting to steal every fucking ounce of that comfort from him he could get. They were made for one another. It just took Hop way too long to realize, but he understood now. He understood what Leon had been trying to tell him for years by this point, and it was much, much less painful to just fucking admit it already.

When his crying quieted until Hop was only sniffling, Leon having slowed with his rocking somewhat, Hop lifted his face from him, his face gushing heat from his emotional state, and he could already see the shining spot in the corner of Leon’s neck from where he’d cried on him so much. Hop couldn’t help it. Pulling himself away, he sat in Leon’s lap, face level with him while he rubbed the rest of the tears off with his sleeve, and Leon pat his back, giving him a soft smile as he did so.

“You’re going to be okay, Hop. It’s okay to cry. I know I can get frustrated with you about it sometimes, but it’s just because I want you to be happy.”

Hop nodded, his face still obscured by his arm as he wiped his face dry with his sleeve.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Leon leaned into him, now leaning his head onto Hop’s shoulder as he pulled him into a hug.

Hop’s chest felt tight, but he ignored it, instead nodding as his brother clung to him. “I-I know…” Somehow, he didn’t know why, Hop couldn’t figure it out, but somehow admitting that broke his heart. It coiled into his chest, until his throat was tight, until he was sure he would choke on it, until he wanted to cry all over again, but there was nothing left. Hop couldn’t have cried if he wanted to.

It was hard to muster those feelings after being numb for so long.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep? You were tossing and turning all night, so I know you’re probably exhausted.”

That was probably the only mercy Hop was going to get today, and he nodded, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers and sleep for a long, long time. “…yeah.”

Leon leaned off his shoulder then, and Hop hated that the loss of that warmth made him want to cling to him all over again, pull him close, soak up his body heat like a sponge, because Hop was starving right now, and he didn’t even know what for. It felt if Leon left him, he would just feel worse, so before his brother could pull him off his lap, Hop reached out, clapping his hand on his shoulder.

“Wait—Lee.”

Pausing, not expecting it, Leon opened his mouth to ask what, but Hop never gave him that opportunity. Reaching up with both hands, Hop cupped Leon’s face in his palms before pulling his brother into his face, and kissed him right on the mouth. There was no resistance from Leon, but a bit of shock at first, Hop could feel the way he froze beneath him, and the twitch of his cock against his thigh came not soon after. No matter what they did, how far they went, how far they _didn’t_ go, Leon still got as excited for him as he always did. Over the years, Hop had begun to build up his own tolerance for it, able to hold his orgasm at bay just a bit longer, which caused Leon to go the extra mile for him, but he never seemed to mind.

It only made sex last that much longer, after all, and Leon seemed way too happy to obliged him.

Only a few seconds passed before Leon fell completely lax under him as Hop kissed him. It wasn’t as thorough as some of the kisses Leon gave him, as his brother often got creative with his tongue, but Hop didn’t go that far. He wouldn’t have kept kissing him had Leon not reached up to run his fingers through his messy hair, moaning against his mouth as he kissed back. Even small things like this, like kissing—Leon was always so passionate about it, always making sure no matter what happened, that Hop got something out of it first and foremost. He never let himself come first during sex. He always prepared Hop before going inside, always being gentle with him, and sometimes Hop even wanted to hold onto him while they fucked. He couldn’t figure out why, but it gave him a strange sense of comfort if Leon held his hand the whole time while it happened.

Sometimes his brother could be just as loving as he always claimed to be, and Hop knew deep down his brother really _did_ love him. No sane person would ever go to the lengths he went through if he didn’t, but Hop knew he cared for him and didn’t want anything bad happening to him.

But over the years, Hop had started giving in more and more, until even he was holding onto Leon like this, kissing him first, just wanting to be comforted when he couldn’t figure out why. He kissed Leon like he’d never kissed anyone before, still holding his face, still pausing to breathe only to pepper more kisses to his mouth, and Leon returned it in full. For every kiss Hop planted on him, Leon gave three more. For every moan Hop made into his mouth, Leon gasped and would rut up against him.

“Mmm—Hop—” For once, Leon was the one pulling away, even as Hop tried to kiss him again, he stopped when he felt his brother lean off him. His face was flushed, his eyes lidded, as though he’d just been indulging in the best haze of his life, but he gave Hop a soft smile. “Not now. If you keep going, I’ll get carried away.”

“S-sorry…” Hop felt a little foolish, his cheeks burning in embarrassment, as it wasn’t often Leon rejected him when he made the first move. His brother always seemed damn near close to tears of joy anytime Hop initiated a kiss, or even hugged him, but in some fucked up kind of way, having Leon put a stop to it gave Hop the impression he was unwanted and that Leon was growing bored of him.

Shit, what the fuck was wrong with him? Shouldn’t he have _wanted_ that?

Before his thoughts could go off on him, Leon just ran his fingers through his hair, giving a soft chuckle as he continued gazing at Hop underneath lidded eyes. “Don’t ever apologize for that. I love it, you know I’m crazy about you. I just know you’re exhausted. You haven’t slept well for the past two weeks. You need to get some rest, okay? It’s only going to tire you out even more if we start up again.”

Hop nodded, casting his focus downward. “…okay.”

With Leon giving him a small smile, he leaned forward enough to give Hop a quick peck on the cheek before looping his arms underneath his knees. With delicate precision, he lifted Hop out of his lap as though he weighed nothing before tucking him under the covers in the spot next to him, smiling the whole while he fluffed his pillow and made sure he was comfortable. “We can make out all you want after you get some rest. Try to get some sleep. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Just as Leon was about to climb out of bed, his feet already dangling over the side of the mattress, Hop suddenly reached out, grabbing hold of his arm, not sure why his heart was pounding so hard in his chest at the prospect of Leon leaving him alone. “W-wait—”

His cheeks were on fire when Leon whirled around, giving him a questioning look, and Hop had to avert his gaze. Why the _fuck_ was he doing this? Why was he so emotionally stunted right now that he couldn’t handle being alone, even if his only company was someone he did _not_ want to spend all that much time with anymore? It made no sense. No fucking sense. Sometimes Hop reveled in solitude, he would purposefully shut himself up somewhere to be alone, just to get away from Leon’s clingy kisses and overly long hugs, but other times—

He swallowed, giving Leon a pleading look.

Other times, he just wanted someone to be there with him.

“Stay with me. Please?” His grip on Leon’s arm began to quiver. “P-please don’t leave me, Lee.”

He didn’t know why he was being like this, or why he was so desperate to keep Leon by his side, but Hop wasn’t ready for that warmth to leave him. Not yet.

At first, he expected Leon to brush him off, insist he was fine, and leave to go tend to his chores or whatever it is he did, but to his utter surprise, Leon reached up to grip hold of the hand Hop had wrapped around his arm. He cupped his palm, bringing Hop’s hand close to his mouth before Leon kissed his knuckles. “If that’s what you want, Hop.”

Hop nodded, his cheeks gushing shameful heat, though he couldn’t seem to muster the courage to actually look Leon in the eye when he replied. “I-I do…”

“Then what kind of big brother am I to deny you what you want?” As he spoke, Leon released his hand, peeling back the covers to once again huddle himself underneath, until he and Hop were facing each other on their sides.

Immediately, Hop felt the warmth wash over him, and he almost sighed in relief, but opted instead to inch a bit closer to Leon to take advantage of his body heat, and he chuckled at his awful attempt at being inconspicuous.

“Don’t be shy. Come here. Turn over so I can hold you.”

Without protest, Hop scooted over until he was right in front of Leon before rolling over to his other side. Leon gripped hold of his hips, pulling Hop backward to fit up against him, effectively spooning him. With the way they were clinging to each other now, Hop could feel all of Leon’s warmth encase him, and it made him sleepy just from the contact alone. Just being with his brother was one of the few times Hop could feel safe if he allowed it to.

Not always.

But sometimes.

Maybe one day, that ‘sometimes’ would be ‘always’, but for now, Hop reveled in the warmth, as Leon draped his arm over him, nuzzling his face into his hair and giving Hop small kisses here and there. He began to hum, as he often did when Hop had trouble sleeping, when Hop was upset, or something other. The times Leon would speak in a low, baritone voice like this in an attempt to comfort him never failed to set all of Hop’s anxieties at ease.

It was the strangest sensation.

Hop often wondered if everything that had happened, all the heartache he’d put them through could have been avoided had he known what he knew now. Maybe Leon would have never locked him up in the apartment. Maybe Mum never would have found out and banished them. If Hop had listened to Leon all those years ago, he wondered how different life could have been had things not ended up this way.

Because his heart still hurt. Hop still cried. He still longed for a mother whom he’d probably never see again. He dreamed of being with Gloria again, spending time together like the old days. But days like that were gone. Hop left all that behind in Galar the moment he stepped on that plane with Leon and into this house with him.

His brother cradled him as Hop began to slowly drift off to sleep, his crying bout from earlier only contributing to his exhaustion, so it was easier now that the emotions were purged to settle down. And with Leon behind him, humming to him, speaking softly to him about nonsensical things, sometimes telling him random stories about this and that, Hop found it easy to drift off.

It was so warm, and for once, Hop didn’t feel much of anything. The numbness was ever prevalent, but his chest wasn’t hurting. His stomach wasn’t churning, and he allowed himself to relax in Leon’s hold as his brother lulled him to sleep.

The sun was going to rise and fall tomorrow, with or without Hop, and he would wake up everyday next to Leon, because they were _meant to be together._

As he hummed behind him, Leon placed a kiss to the top of his head, snuggling him close when he did so. “I love you, Hop. I hope you know how much. I love you more than anything.”

Hop knew. He knew all too well how much his brother loved him. Nobody would go through this much trouble for one person if they weren’t insane—if they weren’t in love.

Hop nodded, eyelids drooping as he gripped hold of Leon’s hand that he had draped over him to entwine their fingers together. Leon held him back when Hop could feel sleep taking over.

“I know, Lee.” He squeezed Leon’s hand. “…I love you too.”


End file.
